


Prison Break: The Honest Break

by PrissyWrites



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrissyWrites/pseuds/PrissyWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An episode-by-episode script parody of Prison Break. Yeah. That's pretty much what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael learns that his nerd card may not be enough to score him points with the jailbird jocks.

SID: There, all finished! Surprising how there isn’t a single drop of blood anywhere, really.

MICHAEL: Allow my dashing good looks distract you from worrying about those little plot holes.

SID: That works?

MICHAEL: [opens shirt]

SID: I think I just had a religious experience.

MICHAEL: At last, after many moons of careful and elaborate plotting, I, the genius child prodigy turned college-educated engineer with supreme intelligence, am ready to commence the operat-

MICHAEL: [is distracted by the tattoo parlour leaflet] 

MICHAEL: What do you _mean_ you also do semi-permanent tattoos?!

***

MICHAEL: Remember kids, armed robbery is not cool. Unless you’re doing it to bust your dead-beat brother out of jail. Then it’s perfectly justifiable.

CLERK: I beg to differ.

MICHAEL: All your moneys are belong to me now.

CLERK: Not until our branch manager returns from White Castle they’re not.

MICHAEL: White Castle?

CLERK: Yeah. I think that’s supposed to be a commentary on how fast-food corporations are ruining the nation’s economy.

POLICE OFFICER: _Put down your weapons, now! Also your blazer! And your shirt!_

MICHAEL: Are you sure this is the standard procedure?

POLICE OFFICER: _Absolutely! Now, your pants!_

***

MICHAEL: Whelp! Guess it’s time to go to prison. Totally didn’t expect this turn of events.

VERONICA: Michael, you can’t! Who else will fulfil the role of being the hot uncle at LJ’s birthday parties? The poor child, and it’s only been months since he’s lost the status of being that kid with a hot dad.

LJ: [sobbing in the background]

MICHAEL: It won’t be easy, but it’s a sacrifice I must make.

JUDGE: Heed your lawyer’s advice, young man. According to recent studies, a child with no attractive relatives to look up to is far more likely to turn to the tragic life of Hollywood’s idea of what constitutes typical underage criminal activities.

MICHAEL: I thought you were supposed to be on my side?

***

MICHAEL: I sure do hope I don’t step on any crooked guard’s toes during my first few minutes in prison.

BELLICK: Cockyfishwholikesdefyingauthoritysayswhat?

MICHAEL: What?

BELLICK: [narrows eyes] I knew it!

MICHAEL: I can’t believe I fell for that.

SUCRE: Welcome to Prisneyland, Fish. It’s like Disneyland, except the food sucks and you are forced to pay ridiculously high prices in order to obtain otherwise ordinary items.

MICHAEL: So exactly like Disneyland?

SUCRE: Oh yeah, and there’s also that whole stabbing people thing.

MICHAEL: Is it too late to refund my ticket?

***

VERONICA: I can’t believe I have to wait five years to see shirtless Michael again.

SEBASTIAN: [takes shirt off] Better?

VERONICA: Thanks, Sebastian, but it’s just not the same.

***

MICHAEL: I refuse to believe anyone can cram all the vital expositional information in just under five minutes running time.

SUCRE: Challenge accepted!

[five minutes later]

MICHAEL: Wow. That was actually pretty good.

SUCRE: You will find I take exposition very seriously.

MICHAEL: So, about my bro, Lincoln the Bathroom Cupboard-

SUCRE: The bathroom cupboard?

MICHAEL: As in, if you come after him, he’ll whack you over the head with a bathroom cupboard?

SUCRE: Well... I do suppose that makes about as much sense as the sink metaphor.

MICHAEL: Anyway, how do I get to him?

SUCRE: You join the alluring employment prospect that is the Prison Industries. But I’m just screwing with you here, because it’s actually John Abruzzi who runs it, and everyone knows he only lets the coolest kids in on the gig, not n00bs like you.

MICHAEL: John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi?

SUCRE: John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi.

MICHAEL: John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi?

SUCRE: John Abr- what were we talking about again?

***

LINCOLN: Super Secret Conspiracy! The doom of America! Is now!

MICHAEL: Despite your history of unreliable erratic behavior, I instantly believe you about the existence of this ridiculously elaborate and highly unlikely murder-framing scheme.

LINCOLN: Wow that was easy. You sure you don’t wanna sleep on that?

MICHAEL: Nope, I’m cool.

***

SUCRE: How many obscure Thesaurus entries can your writing contain before it stops being romantic and starts resembling that obnoxious guy’s college essay?

MICHAEL: Why you asking?

SUCRE: I’m trying to propose to my female companion.

MICHAEL: I suppose that rules out the possibility of my experiencing any of that famed incarcerated man-loving.

SUCRE: Oh, my sweet summer child.

***

LJ: Teenage angst!

POLICE OFFICER: Kids these days and their half-of-my-parentage-is-on-deathrow rebelling antics.

***

MICHAEL: Hello, my name is Michael Scofield, and I would like to audition for your exclusive clique. My interests include devastating people with my sexiness and performing demanding physical labour for ridiculously low wages.

ABRUZZI: You can’t sit with us.

MICHAEL: I’m sure you will change your mind once I hand you this exquisite oriental art piece.

MOB THUG: [whispers] Nerd.

MICHAEL: Well fine, you don’t have to take me in! 

MICHAEL: …

MICHAEL: My mommy says you’re just jealous because I’m much smarter than you, anyway.

***

MICHAEL: You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy my body, but you will never imprison my broth- I mean, my mind.

SARA: Say what?

MICHAEL: *Great job mixing up your Gandhi quotes, Michael! Now she’ll never ask you out.*

SARA: Good thing you’re hotter than the entire harem of Calvin Klein models ‘cause otherwise I might just get distracted by your suspiciously extensive knowledge of my life.

MICHAEL: My face gets me out of trouble once more!

SARA: Hm... Mrs Sara Scofield; no, Tancredi-Scofield. Or perhaps Scofield-Tancredi?

***

HALE: The very foundations of our Super Secret Conspiracy are being threatened!

KELLERMAN: I believe this calls for some over-the-top Men In Black shenanigans.

HALE: Sweet! Can I be Will Smith this time?

KELLERMAN: No, Hale, that’s me.

HALE: [sighs] But you’re always Will Smith.

***

CHAPLAIN: I am aware certain among you are having a particularly hard time dealing with your impending death. But hey, you know who else had to die? Jesus! And see how that worked out for him – he was promptly resurrected by his almighty magical father. As I’m sure you will be too.

LINCOLN: What is my life even.

MICHAEL: Guess who’s getting a one-way ticket out of the big house for Christmas!

LINCOLN: Gasp! But I don’t think it’s even close to Christmas.

MICHAEL: Seasons get very ambiguous in this area. 

LINCOLN: Your plan is impossible!

MICHAEL: I don’t want to hear impossible from you – especially not after I’ve already had my whole body permanently tattooed in vaguely satanic imagery! Do you know I have seen my hotness rank drop from a firm 10 to a pitiful 9.5 ever since? And it’s only stayed that high because I had to shave my head to compensate.

LINCOLN: You know most parlours do semi-permanent tattoos nowadays, don’t you?

MICHAEL: DON’T YOU EVEN GO THERE.

***

SEBASTIAN: You seem distracted, my future wife whom I love dearly.

VERONICA: That’s totally not because I might kinda sort of still be madly in love with a specific hot stuff yet dead-beat ex who is being executed in a matter of weeks for having killed the Vice President’s brother.

SEBASTIAN: Well, that was awfully specific.

VERONICA: Let’s just move on to more interesting plot points, shall we?

***

SUCRE: Thesaurus is causing the moral decadence of America!

MICHAEL: Does this mean my chances of getting some man-loving just got higher?

SUCRE: _Dude!_

MICHAEL: ... Not even a little bit?

STOLTE: Scofield! Let’s go, the plot is pressing!

MICHAEL: Hold that thought.

***

MICHAEL: If you’re looking for the guy who would try and bust his brother out of jail before his untimely death, that’s totally not me! It’s one of Lincoln’s other siblings conveniently incarcerated here.

POPE: What? No, I just need your genius skills to help me finish this popsicle model in time for my anniversary.

MICHAEL: As incredibly sweet of a gig that may be for just a regular ol’ convict like myself, I must suspiciously decline.

POPE: How come?

MICHAEL: It would take too much time away... from my... middle-distance staring.

***

MICHAEL: Your love for Linc may be a thing of the past, but mine still burns like a blazing fire, baby! 

VERONICA: Since platonic love between men and women doesn’t exist, I can do nothing to contest that statement.

MICHAEL: Super Secret Conspiracy! The doom of America! Is now!

VERONICA: You’re all delusional, Veronica out.

***

KELLERMAN: Why the big secret? People are smart. They can handle it.

HALE: [glowering]

KELLERMAN: _ekhm_

HALE: [sigh] A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago-

BISHOP: Excuse me, but what are you doing in my house?

KELLERMAN: We need you to abandon all your beliefs and convictions and join the Super Secret Conspiracy in our quest to take over the world.

BISHOP: So all those prophesies about Obama being the Anti-Christ were true after all. I knew it!

KELLERMAN: The Internet never lies. So how about letting us execute some innocent people?

BISHOP: Over my dead body!

KELLERMAN: Not an issue for me.

BISHOP: Say what?

KELLERMAN: Oh, nothing really. Have a great rest of your days- I mean day, Your Excellency.

[ominous Latin chanting]

BISHOP: … I should really cut down on drugs.

***

MICHAEL: Famousplanehijackingrobbersayswhat?

WESTMORLAND: You’d have to be a complete moron to fall for that.

MICHAEL: Touché.

ABRUZZI: Give me Fibonacci before I have to confuse you with my regionally ambiguous accent.

MICHAEL: Your regionally ambiguous accent is no match for my improbable white-collar fighting skills!

CO: I’m shooting at you because you’re all bunch of nerds.

***

POPE: Ninety days in the shu!

MICHAEL: But! But! My... middle-distance staring!

POPE: That’s none of my concern.

MICHAEL: Without my genius engineering skills your popsicle model will turn into crumbles!

POPE: I’m not really convinced.

MICHAEL: Would it help if I threw in some random threatening engineering terminology nobody really understands?

POPE: I suppose I can’t argue with that.

***

BISHOP: Who’s there?

ASSASSIN GUY: The guy who’ll turn you into a plot device for one of the characters who actually have their actor’s names appear in the opening titles.

BISHOP: But I don’t want to be a plot device!

ASSASSIN GUY: Tough titty, guest star.

SECRETARY: Whelp! The bishop was killed last night. You must be feeling really sorry now for not trusting Michael on that improbable Super Secret Conspiracy thing!

VERONICA: Well! How could I have ever been so blind?!

***

LJ: Teenage angst!

LINCOLN: Seriously LJ, they’re executing me in like a month. Some human empathy wouldn’t hurt.

LJ: Teenage angst!

LINCOLN: Okay, I know you’re mad and all, but being an asshole isn’t a solution.

LJ: Teenage angst!

LINCOLN: Can you say _anything_ besides that?

LJ: You’re dead to me.

LINCOLN: ... On the second thought, let’s go back to that emo phase thing you had going on there.

***

SUCRE: So what do you say to my letter-proposal?

MARICRUZ: If “betrothed” still means what 18th century dictionaries say it does, then I accept wholeheartedly!

SUCRE: Yeah, I may have gone a little overboard in my quest for romantic wording.

MARICRUZ: So are we gonna stop talking and get down to business? This vaguely Spanish background music is making me horny.

SUCRE: Who would’ve thought Bellick’s cultural insensitivity would get me laid one day?

***

SARA: I see you went to Leola. 

MICHAEL: I see you’ve been checking up on me.

SARA: Oh, I just like to get to know all my patients. And by all I mostly mean mysterious and tall underwear-model material with romanticized emotional issues.

MICHAEL: …Have you been scribbling _Sara + Michael_ hearts all over your chart?

SARA: Um… Oh, look! Your blood glucose levels look stable. Are you sure you haven’t been misdiagnosed as a diabetic and then died at some point from being administered insulin shots you didn’t need?

MICHAEL: Yes… wait, you can die from that stuff? HOW DOES AN OVERSIGHT OF THESE PROPORTIONS HAPPEN? OH, I THINK I CAN SEE THE LIGHT ALREADY. GOODNIGHT, SWEET SARA-

SARA: Oh, stop being a drama queen. As long as you have diabetes, you’ll be fine.

MICHAEL: [sweats] Oh yeah, sure I have it. No greater diabetic than the good ol’ Michael Scofield over here… by the way, you wouldn’t happen to know the nearest place one could get a professional blood detox? Asking for a friend.

***

SUCRE: Ladies and gents are not capable of forming purely platonic rapports!

MARICRUZ: Sweetheart, if you wanna keep making babies with me, you’re really gonna have to put a stop to this whole Reddit fuckboi phase.

SUCRE: Sorry, babe. I should’ve known better than to mix Thesaurus with generic Latino male stereotypes.

MARICRUZ: Well, I suppose it’s stil better than your Japanese children’s cartoons phase.

SUCRE: THEY’RE CALLED ANIME AND THEY’RE PERFECTLY APPROPRIATE ENTERTAINMENT FOR ALL AGES.

***

MICHAEL: I understand you’re a man that knows how to get things.

C-NOTE: I’m known to locate certain things from time to time.

MICHAEL: I wonder if you might get me-

C-NOTE: A hammer?

MICHAEL: What? No, man, Double Stuf Oreos. 

C-NOTE: Double Stuf Oreos?

MICHAEL: Yeah, you know, like regular Oreos, but with double the creamy goodness? Please, this prison food will be the end of me. Also, for some reason, I’ve been craving excessive amounts of sugar lately. I’m sure it doesn’t have anything to do with my super amazing state of health.

C-NOTE: You know your hands are shaking, right?

MICHAEL: Oh, sweet mother Mary! Look, man, it's really simple: I need this drug that’s going to help me fake diabetes so I can go to the infirmary to get insulin shots for my diabetes that I don’t really have. You’re in?

C-NOTE: …

MICHAEL: Can I convince you with suspiciously copious amounts of money?

C-NOTE: Guess I shouldn’t ask where it came from?

MICHAEL: Just try keeping it away from your anything that you might want to put in your mouth.

***

ABRUZZI: Welcome to The Cool KidsTM, Fish. Your membership card entitles you to exclusive privileges such as free random beat-downs and mob-organised excursions for you and your extended family to only the most luxurious of isolated shacks. Food and drink not included in the price.

MICHAEL: Since this couldn’t possibly be some sort of trap, I will be naively optimistic about this development.

LINCOLN: I can’t believe you finally got into the clique, lil bro! Good for you!

MICHAEL: Yeah, took me a little longer than expected since a _certain somebody_ refused to vouch for me.

LINCOLN: Well, it’s a harsh world out there. Can’t risk the gang seeing me with a noob.

MICHAEL: They’re rapists and murderers, Linc.

LINCOLN: Hey! Everybody makes mistakes.

MICHAEL: … Anyhow, let us now admire some cool yet unnecessarily complex tattoo porn.

[high-pitched screams]

LINCOLN: What was that?

MICHAEL: Oh, that’s just the fangirls. It's kind of a regular occurrence whenever I get undressed. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.

LINCOLN: [sigh] Should’ve just kept hanging out with the mobsters. _Way_ less drama.

MICHAEL: RAPISTS AND MURDERERS, LINC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got some parts of _Allen_ done already so this little project may be continued if people take a liking to it.


	2. Allen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael gets royally screwed, nearly in more ways than one.

MICHAEL: You know what I like about you, Charles? You’re such a stick-it-to-the-man kind of a guy.

WESTMORLAND: That actually sounds nothing like me.

MICHAEL: Much stick-it-to-the-man. Such rage against the machine. 

WESTMORLAND: …

MICHAEL: FIGHT THE POWER!

WESTMORLAND: I’d really prefer not to.

MICHAEL: Anyway! What is this strange racial tension that I sense brewing in this otherwise so tolerant environment?

WESTMORLAND: Apparently, some of these guys didn’t get the memo that racism officially ended when Obama was elected president.

MICHAEL: Well, that’s understandable. They just can’t appreciate his sense of _freedom_ and _charity_. Unlike _you_ , of course, you generous old goofball!

WESTMORLAND: Seriously, where is Abruzzi when you need him?

***

MICHAEL: What a wonderful day to lay back and admire some exquisite body art.

BELLICK: HELLO NAUGHTY CHILDREN IT’S SCOFIELD PESTERI- I mean, CELL TOSSING TIME

RANDOM CO: Boss, I think that con over there is trying to flush like fifty shan-

BELLICK: SCOFIELD PESTERING!

MICHAEL: Help! A Cool KidTM in distress over here!

POPE-EX-MACHINA: My teacher’s-pet senses are tingling.

BELLICK: Pretty please, just let us purge?

POPE: Gladly, but if you look closely you will notice this inmate has a Cool KidsTM membership card in his possession, which grants him immunity from suffering any kind of human rights violation.

BELLICK: Oh. What about Sucre, though?

POPE: Nah, he’s fair game.

SUCRE: _Hey!_

MICHAEL: Sorry, bud. I promise to babysit your collection of Japanese cartoons for you.

SUCRE: FOR THE LAST TIME, THEY’RE CALLED _ANIME_!

***

MICHAEL: Flawless plan is flawless.

LINCOLN: Michael, you’re so gonna get your ass kicked in here.

MICHAEL: It’s incredible how much I’m not.

LINCOLN: Really? And just what have you done so far to prevent that?

MICHAEL: If you must know, I’ve actually been working on smuggling a glucose-altering drug into a maximum security prison so I could seduce an ex-junkie, all of this right before the impending racial war of doom and with the help of an inmate who happens to be part of a stereotypical black gang.

LINCOLN: JUST KILL ME NOW AND SPARE ME THE HUMILIATION.

***

MICHAEL: Unscrew-a-dub-dub.

T-BAG: Well hai there. 

MICHAEL: Would it _kill_ the universe to cut me one break?

T-BAG: Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior Jefferson Davis?

MICHAEL: So apart from being a kid murderer and apparently an avid member of Hitler Youth, what other remarkable qualities do you sport?

T-BAG: Why, I’m glad you asked! I’m also the designated prison rapist.

MICHAEL: A true all-around guy.

MAYTAG: [hisses]

MICHAEL: How do I keep pissing off people while doing nothing.

T-BAG: Since you don’t seem eager to participate in our homoerotic Civil War reenactment, I think that you should leave.

MICHAEL: Okay, but before I do, do you think you could maybe give me that screw I need so badly?

T-BAG: You needn’t even ask.

MICHAEL: Oh, swell, thanks! Hey, I guess you aren’t such a bad guy after- Wait, not like _that_! Oh for God’s sake, put that thing back where it came from!

T-BAG: You’re no fun, Pretty.

MICHAEL: Forget Pugnac, I’m gonna need C-Note to procure me some Xanax.

***

LINCOLN: Hey, I’m out of jail! And I’m getting laid! Haha, suck on that, Michael!

VERONICA: This is just a flashback, dummy.

LINCOLN: Oh, right.

VERONICA: So I guess all that big talk about how you were going to change pretty much just went out of the window?

LINCOLN: Um, errr… Hey, look to your left!

VERONICA: What’s there?

LINCOLN: A convenient diversion! Let’s take a picture.

VERONICA: You better hope I don’t upload this to one of those ex-revenge sites after our inevitable break-up.

***

T-BAG: Roses are red, violets are blue, give me that screw before I cut you.

MICHAEL: Ha! I’m not falling for that double-entendre again, T-Bag. I learned my lesson last time. So here, you get the bolt.

T-BAG: Actually, that’s what I wanted.

MICHAEL: Oh, curse you and your crafty ways!

MAYTAG: [hisses]

MICHAEL: What’s his problem?

T-BAG: He thinks that if I get that screw from you, I will no longer be needing his own special screw-procuring skills.

MICHAEL: Well, I suppose I _am_ rather exceptionally gifted with screws.

T-BAG: As in fornication.

MICHAEL: DAMN IT, T-BAG!

***

BELLICK: Would you look at that! It’s already time for my daily dose of power abuse.

BELLICK: [holds up the Allen Schweitzer paper] And they say marathoning CSI Miami episodes never pays off.

***

MICHAEL: I need your advice on how to get a screw from a violent pederast.

ABRUZZI: I can’t say that’s exactly my area of expertise.

MICHAEL: _I MEAN AS IN A BOLT._

ABRUZZI: Whatever you kids call it these days.

MICHAEL: Why did I think including you in the escape was a good idea again?!

***

FALZONE: I came here to fraternize, which roughly translates to “murder your entire family if you fail to deliver Fibonacci” in Mobsterese.

ABRUZZI: I can’t believe that still manages to be slightly less depressing than T-Bag’s definition of that word.

***

T-BAG: What the hell are you doing in my cell?

MICHAEL: I’m here to claim my screw. That of the people-penetrating variety, just so that there’s no confusion this time.

T-BAG: …

MICHAEL: I MEAN I WANT TO STAB SOME PEOPLE, GODDAMN IT!

T-BAG: While I appreciate your change of heart, this toothpick is the only thing you get for the time being.

MICHAEL: How the hell am I supposed to kill people with a toothpick?

T-BAG: Get crafty.

***

VERONICA: I’m so relevant. Gosh, just look at me, doing all these plot-relevant things. Development!

RANDOM LAWYER: Is it time to collect my paycheck yet?

***

MICHAEL: What a wonderful day to lay back and enjoy some growing racial tension.

BELLICK: HELLO NAUGHTY CHILDREN IT’S ALLEN SCHWEITZER TIME.

MICHAEL: So today I’ve been courted by a Hitler enthusiast, had my plot-detrimental screw denied, my living space invaded by a human incarnation of an overweight complex-ridden hyena and now my plan foiled by the same.

T-BAG: Ya know, if it makes you feel any better, I could still remedy your screw situation.

MICHAEL: COULD THIS DAY GET ANY WORSE?!

C-NOTE-EX-MACHINA: My tempting-the-fate senses are tingling. 

MICHAEL: Well crap.

C-NOTE: Aaand down the drain the diabetes goes. Good luck seducing the good doctor now that you’re just a regular super-intelligent Men’s Health cover material!

MICHAEL: Alas, poor plot device, we hardly knew ya.

***

VERONICA: Turns out your Super Secret Conspiracy isn’t that much of a secret. Nor a conspiracy. In fact, I vote we just change its name to Yet Another Lie By My Dead-Beat But Hottie Ex. 

LINCOLN: Unfortunately, I think Sara’s already got that trademarked as her entire season two plot.

VERONICA: The tape shows you shooting Steadman without an ounce of remorse in your depraved being. And, I mean, a cold-blooded murder I could maybe forgive, but then you also go out of your way to kick a puppy? An innocent puppy, Linc? _You are a monster._

LINCOLN: WTF I never did any of that! The evidence was doctored!

VERONICA: Well, now that you mention it, that pug did look suspiciously like a clip art…

LINCOLN: You have to believe me, Veronica, you are my last hope!

VERONICA: What about Michael?

MICHAEL: Could I technically give myself diabetes if I ate a mining truck’s worth of Dunkin’ Donuts by my next doctor’s appointment?

VERONICA: Never mind.

***

MARICRUZ: It sure would be nice if my boyfriend called me.

SUCRE: I AM IN A GLASS CAGE OF EMOTIONS. And in an actual cage. Please still love me, babe.

HECTOR: I’m kind of a jackass but also sugar daddy material. Date me?

MARICRUZ: Okay, but only in a vaguely defined way that will allow the audience to keep speculating about whom I’ll really choose in the end.

HECTOR: As I have absolutely nothing resembling a substantial character trait, I am okay with this.

MARICRUZ: Great! Now let’s go enjoy some sweet beats.

SUCRE: Seriously, what am I, chopped liver?!

***

HALE: Clip art? _Really_?

KELLERMAN: Well, I’m so sorry my Photoshop skills aren’t up to your standards!

HALE: Do you see who I have to work with?

RANDOM LAWYER: Personally, I thought the dog was kind of a fun and sentimental touch.

KELLERMAN: Ha! In your face, Mr. Grumpy Pants.

RANDOM LAWYER: Anyway, I’m just here to collect my paycheck for the day, so I would really appreciate it if you didn’t kill me in the process.

KELLERMAN: Calm down, Bill, it’s the relevant Weasley we’re looking for. And a little respect, will you? Do you think we are _that_ uncivilized?

HALE: Paul, didn’t we just bury the guy who served you a Big Mac without the second patty?

KELLERMAN: That is not the point.

***

RANDOM INMATE: Stabby time!

WESTMORLAND: Thanks, but no thanks. Westy out.

MICHAEL: HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO ME / I MADE MY MISTAKES / GOT NOWHERE TO RUN

RANDOM INMATE: [pushes him off the rail] Simple Plan _sucks_!

MICHAEL: FYI, their early stuff was really catchy!!

MAYTAG: Prepare to be screwed to death!

MICHAEL: Will you stop it with the screw innuendo already, it’s not even funny anymore?!

MAYTAG: Heh. You said screw.

MICHAEL: I SWEAR TO GOD 

RANDOM BLACK INMATE: Don’t mind me, I’m just here to demonstrate the powerful message that all racists eventually meet a sticky end at the hands of those they discriminate against.

MICHAEL: They do?

RANDOM BLACK INMATE: Well, not really, but at least it makes for good TV. 

MAYTAG: I approve of this message and also I am now dead.

MICHAEL: Well, that was kind of a deeply traumatic experience. But hey, at least I got my screw now so I can finally concentrate on busting out of this slammer with the help of World’s Best Big Bro.

LINCOLN: Awww yiss.

T-BAG: [sees Maytag]

T-BAG: [Kill Bill siren goes off]

LINCOLN: Lol, never mind, you’re on your own.

***

VERONICA: I am slightly more helpful than usual. Relevance!

LETICIA: So, the Super Secret Conspiracy is actually real, Lincoln was set up and so was my boyfriend whom they’ve already murdered. Oh yeah, and there’s also a bunch of Agent Smith rip-offs out there ready to jump you should you try to reveal any dirt on them whatsoever. Kthnxbye.

VERONICA: Aaaand I have no idea what to do again.

KELLERMAN: Um, we are obviously Men in Black rip-offs? Geez, get your references straight, woman.

CAROLINE: Paul, are you goofing around with your friends instead of murdering people again?

HALE: He is, Miss Reynolds.

KELLERMAN: HALE, YOU SNITCH.

CAROLINE: That does it, young man – no chloroform supplies for you for a week.

KELLERMAN: But mooooom!

***

C-NOTE: I appreciate your endorsement of Fox’s misleading messages about race relations so we are now friends again. Here’s your diabetes.

MICHAEL: Thank God – I was beginning to get so upset I almost changed my facial expression to actually match my inner turmoil for once. Talk about scary!

***

SARA: I’m sure you know this but the average glucose for a non-diabetic is about one hundred milligrams per deciliter. We see a number like that here and we know you’ve been misdiagnosed.

MICHAEL: If you think I know this already, then who are you talking to?

SARA: Oh, no one in particular the audience.

SARA: Anyway! Bad news I’m afraid. And why are you drenched in sweat all of a sudden?

MICHAEL: NO PARTICULAR REASON

SARA: … Well, in any case, you’re definitely a diabetic.

MICHAEL: Well this is not surprising at all and totally the answer I was expecting when I SHIT MY PANTS just two seconds ago.

SARA: You’re acting strange but I still like your face so I guess I can trust you.

***

BELLICK: Hey, kid! Wanna play some Xbox?

MICHAEL: Yeah, sure! I love Xbox!

MICHAEL: [enters the room]

MICHAEL: I don’t see an Xbox in here.

ABRUZZI: I understand your confusion, but you see, in Mobsterese Xbox normally translates to something along the lines of “we’re gonna kill your ex and stuff them in a box”.

MICHAEL: But I don’t even have a well-established ex yet!

ABRUZZI: Oh… Well, in that case, I suppose we could always go for some good old-fashioned manicure.

MICHAEL: Sweet! Now, I like my polish to be azure blue with just a hint of WHY ARE YOU GETTING OUT THOSE HUGE-ASS PLIERS 

ABRUZZI: Yeah, our manicure is also a bit unconventional, so to speak. 

MICHAEL: But I thought I was the Cool KidTM!

ABRUZZI: You most certainly are, which is why I’m going to perform this professional service completely free of charge. And you also get complementary tetanus to go with your freshly-dismembered looks. Honestly, what more could a guy ask for?

MICHAEL: WHAT IS MY LIFE


	3. Cell Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael's half-baked soap test pushes Sucre to break the sacred bond of bromance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaat, an update? Why yes, I haven't actually abandonded this, I just took a break from writing in general to work on my final thesis. But yeah, here's the new chapter folks, and I hope you enjoy it. I'll try to update more regularly during the summer since, well, there's no classes.

_Previously on The Real Housewives of Fox River_

ABRUZZI: Bitches hide Fibonacci, bitches get dismemberacci.

MICHAEL: I SPECIFICALLY REMEMBER ASKING FOR AZURE BLUE NOT BLOOD-RED-SPRAYED-ALL-OVER POLISH

ABRUZZI: Honestly hon, what’d you expect to get with a discount coupon at the Shed’s Manicures?

MICHAEL: THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE WORST VACATION I’VE EVER HAD

_And now, for a thrilling new instalment!_

RANDOM MOBSTER: [snickering]

ABRUZZI: The hell, man? That’s not cool, the guy just lost his toes.

RANDOM MOBSTER: Um… you cut them off, John.

ABRUZZI: Ohhh, right. Hey, I guess this is kinda funny.

RANDOM MOBSTER: What did I tell you?

MICHAEL: EXCUSE ME PRETTY SURE I’M DYING OVER HERE

BELLICK: Captain Bellick to the rescue!

MICHAEL: Never mind, I got better.

BELLICK: The only logical explanation here seems to be that this particular pair of pliers defied all laws of physics and common sense known to man and developed consciousness in order to purposefully dismember a human being.

SARA: Seems like a load of bullcrap but since my lunch break’s approaching I guess I can let this little transgression slide for now.

BELLICK: Sweet! Cheers to your convenient out-of-character behaviour.

SARA: Oh boy, just wait till we get to season four.

***

LINCOLN: The guy dismembered you, and you still want to be his friends?

MICHAEL: Well, if you still want to bust out of here sipping champagne on a private jet I have to.

LINCOLN: But I never said-

MICHAEL: Hey! I didn’t just go through the worst hazing in history so I could illegally fly your ass to Mexico smelling like regret and fake lobster meat.

LINCOLN: [sighs] You just couldn’t settle for the economy class, could you?

MICHAEL: Oh yeah, and Sucre has to join us too.

LINCOLN: What? Michael, you can’t trust Sucre, he’s a thief and a liar! Unlike me, who’s always been nothing but a respectable gentleman.

MICHAEL: Yes, but for this plan to work, I need to have my expositional side-kick by me at all times.

LINCOLN: I thought I was your expositional side-kick?

MICHAEL: No offense, but you haven’t been around much since getting that promotion to the death row.

LINCOLN: I work so hard as a single parent, and this is the thanks I get?!

***

SUCRE: Oh yeah, baby, talk dirty to me.

CASHIER: Sir, this is Pizza Hut.

SUCRE: PLEASE I AM SO LONELY

CASHIER: Maybe you should try phoning your girlfriend.

SUCRE: I can’t, she’s ambiguously cheating on me with my vaguely defined evil counterpart. Also, I’m pretty sure I just had phone sex with her mother.

CASHIER: … I’m going to hang up now.

SUCRE: _Fine_ , but don’t come crying to me when you wake up to a one-star review on Yelp!

***

T-BAG: So, a machine shop is a thing in this maximum security facility and I apparently have unsupervised access to it? Even by Prison Break standards, that’s just silly.

RANDOM BIKER: Don’t be hating on my small business now.

T-BAG: Anyway, I need something to help me coerc- I mean, seduce my reluctant future boyfriend.

RANDOM BIKER: Why, you’re in luck today! We just happen to have this marvellous bowel-gutting knife at sale.

T-BAG: This has got to be the worst run prison ever.

RANDOM BIKER: To be fair, Oz is a pretty close contestant.

***

PROBATION OFFICER: To overcome the fear of becoming your dead-beat lowlife of a father, you must face your dead-beat lowlife of a father.

LJ: Nice try, but I don’t want to make amends with that guy.

PROBATION OFFICER: Why’s that?

LJ: I’m trying to keep my origins story just the right amount of tragic and bitter in case a radioactive animal ever decides to bite me.

PROBATION OFFICER: Well, you are certainly already the right amounts of vague replaceable white boy, so I’d say you’re already half-way there. 

***

SUCRE: What you up to?

MICHAEL: Not much. Just flaunting this illegal cell phone that definitely isn’t a soap bar of your conjugal doom. You know, the usual.

SUCRE: If your face didn’t look so nice today, I would probably report your Fish ass to Bellick and reap those sweet privileges in the process.

MICHAEL: My face gets me out of trouble once more!

***

POPE: How dare you deprive the American people of their hard-earned entertainment?

LINCOLN: I’m sorry I’m not that thrilled at the prospect of others witnessing my horrible inhumane death.

POPE: You are everything that is wrong with this country!

***

VERONICA: Where are you going?

LETICIA: Somewhere that I can get a break from all this white people drama. Like Ireland.

VERONICA: So you’re just going to let them kill my hunky bootylicious future husband?

LETICIA: Oh come on, Sebastian’s not _that_ hot.

VERONICA: Who the hell is Sebastian?

***

ABRUZZI’S KIDS: Daddy, daddy, Uncle Philly is taking us to his isolated mountain shack for a surprise weekend getaway! Isn’t that awesome?

ABRUZZI: *Twelve hundred dollars a week for Mobsterese lessons and this is what I get?*

***

LINCOLN: The anime fanboy’s got a cell phone.

BELLICK: Why, yes I do.

LINCOLN: I meant Sucre, and wow, if that wasn’t the least surprising piece of trivia I’ve ever learned in my life.

BELLICK: Alright Fernando, time to either give up the phone or your precious waifu. Which one is it gonna be?

SUCRE: THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT SOPHIE FELT LIKE

***

SUCRE: Now that I lost my sexy-time privileges because of your distractingly symmetric face, when can I start making all those sweet phone calls you promised me?

MICHAEL: Yeah, about that… turns out the phone really was a soap bar of your conjugal doom. What are the odds, right?

SUCRE: Are you telling me there’s actually a market out there for giant bars of soap disguised as ‘90s cell phones?

MICHAEL: Capitalism works in mysterious ways. So how about getting on my escape train?

SUCRE: The only train I’ll be getting on is the parole train that I will use to smash your gorgeous deceitful ass into the ground as I choo-choo my way out of this fuckhole for good.

LINCOLN: Damn, that was savage!

MICHAEL: Thank you for that insightful comment, Linc. What in the world would I ever do without your helpful presence.

LINCOLN: Always, bro.

***

VERONICA: So if the government killed your boyfriend and now they’re going to kill mine, does that basically make us sisters-in-law?

LETICIA: I don’t believe that’s how-

VERONICA: Come on! Besties in the very least?

LETICIA: …I’m heading out for a cigarette now.

VERONICA: I’ll take that as a yes.

LETICIA: *there’s not enough nicotine in the world is2g*

KELLERMAN: Hello, I’m your friendly daily PSA that smoking kills.

LETICIA: I knew I should’ve read those warning labels on boxes, damn it!

***

SARA: Tell me your secrets.

MICHAEL: When I was a little boy, my abusive parents would make me watch Forrest Gump in loops, which I think may have contributed to the development of my ambiguous mental illness that curiously always results in brilliance.

SARA: Not exactly what I meant, but I suppose it will do nicely for my scrapbook.

MICHAEL: Your what now?

SARA: Nothing at all. Anyway! Tell me who hurt you.

MICHAEL: I’m sorry, but I cannot do that.

SARA: I get it. It’s because of your manly manliness, isn’t it?

MICHAEL: Well, to be perfectly honest, I think you’ll just have to accept that emotional constipation seems to be my default state of being.

***

KELLERMAN: Hi, my name is Paul Kellerman, but you can just call me your sugar muffin. I like simple wholesome things such telling killer jokes, taking long walks on the beach and burying my feet and enemies in the sand.

VERONICA: Why are you talking to me?

KELLERMAN: Can’t a shady secret agent just talk in a conspiratory manner to an ex-girlfriend of a death-row inmate without being accused of having an ulterior motive?

[phone rings]

VERONICA: I’m sorry but my mom says I have leave right now immediately.

KELLERMAN: [sighs] Nice guys always finish last.

SEBASTIAN: Where the hell are you?? If I have to listen to one more story about your uncle’s inflamed pancreas I’m going to flip my shit.

VERONICA: New phone, who dis?

SEBASTIAN: It’s Sebastian, your expendable fiancé?

VERONICA: Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell. 

SEBASTIAN: I can’t believe I’m subjecting myself to this. I went to Julliard, you know! Fucking _Julliard_!

***

LINCOLN: I will die as I lived: miserable, alone, and abandoned by all friends.

PRIEST: Enough with that emo nonsense! You shall meet your end soiling your pants and convulsing in horrible pain while your family watches from the front seats. As God intended.

LINCOLN: You make a compelling argument. I guess I’m all convinced now.

***

T-BAG: Let’s get slashy tonight, let’s get gutty tonight-

ABRUZZI: Easy now, there will be no slashing or gutting tonight. Or… will there? I don’t know, I’m just that unpredictable and full of surprise!

T-BAG: No, that’s just called being confusing.

RANDOM MOBSTER: Enter at your own peril, past the bolted door, where impossible things may happen that the world has never seen before.

MICHAEL: This better not be another one of those traps where I’m lured into a closed confined space with a dozen of angry men and a false promise of entertainment.

ABRUZZI: Nonsense! This is just our regular Beatles tribute band practice.

MICHAEL: Well, I do love the Beatles. What song will you be playing?

ABRUZZI: _All You Need Is Love_ , as interpreted by T-Bag’s rather fucked-up understanding of all things romance.

MICHAEL: I hate you, you know that?

T-BAG: THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN STAB THAT CAN’T BE STABBED

MICHAEL: Can you keep it down, I believe there are people within a ten mile radius who’d like to preserve their hearing for years to come.

T-BAG: NOTHING YOU CAN RAPE THAT CAN’T BE RAPED

ABRUZZI: You know what I change my mind, you’re too tone-deaf and creepy to earn a place in my boy band. Let’s leave.

T-BAG: One day my face will shine in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and _then_ you’ll be sorry!

ABRUZZI: So thanks to that unnecessary little stunt we’re now officially buddies and plus you get to enjoy decades of horrible upsetting therapy. How do you feel about that?

MICHAEL: *I feel like beating your ass into the ground but the sweet prospect of a first-class seat to freedom tells me that’s a bad idea.*

***

LINCOLN: So this is awkward but would you maybe like to be in live audience for the screening of my government-approved snuff movie?

LJ: WTF dad this is like a whole another level of embarrassing.

LINCOLN: Please don’t judge me I’m very susceptible to the power of religious persuasion.

***

SEBASTIAN: Look, I won’t beat around the bush. I think it’s time for me to leave the sho- I mean, you. I just don’t feel appreciated enough anymore, you know? Anyway, I have to try and pursue my life path in other places.

VERONICA: Oh no

VERONICA: You can’t

VERONICA: Whatever will I do without you… what’s-your-face

VERONICA: The sun will never again shine as bright

SEBASTIAN: You don’t have to rub it in, you know. And my name is Sebastian, goddamn it! Sebastian… Balfour!

VERONICA: You had to Google that, didn’t you?

SEBASTIAN: That’s beside the point!

***

HALE: Why are we in the middle of the woods? I thought we were taking that woman to a smoking rehab therapy.

KELLERMAN: Indeed, and to the most effective one at that. Guaranteed 100% success rate at curing all maladies.

HALE: Please don’t say it’s death again.

KELLERMAN: …

HALE: In case you were wondering, this is the reason you have no friends.

KELLERMAN: Well, that was cold. But not as cold as Leticia’s body. Ha! Am I right or what?

HALE: Aaaand there’s the reason number two.

***

MICHAEL: How could Sucre abandon me like that? He was supposed to be my one true side-kick. My heterosexual life partner. The Robin to my Batman. I didn’t even get to perform our very special bromance song for him.

BELLICK: Is it by any chance the intro to the Ambiguously Gay Duo?

MICHAEL: Possibly.

BELLICK: If you’re done jerking off to your sappy memories now, I’ve got a new cellie to introduce you to.

MICHAEL: Why does he look like the lovechild of Jack Torrance and young Hannibal Lecter?

BELLICK: Don’t be silly, he’s perfectly harmless.

HAYWIRE: It rubs the lotion on the skin.

BELLICK: And very good at giving moisturizing advices. Trust me, the two of you will have a blast.

MICHAEL: So, um… what do you do for fun, Haywire?

HAYWIRE: Lots of things, but my favorite are never sleeping and hovering over my cellmate creepily in any given second of the day and have I mentioned not sleeping like ever because I’m particularly fond of that one.

MICHAEL: Damn you Bellick, how do I pretty-face myself out of this one!?


End file.
